


Become the Beast

by greyassassin24



Series: Convalescence [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Lesbian Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, F/F, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, In Your Heart Shall Burn, Leaving Home, Nothing Hurts, Politics, Pre-Canon, Tragedy, Violence, greek tragedy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-04-10 07:52:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4383491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyassassin24/pseuds/greyassassin24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life's hardest choices are the ones that force you to question your own morality. Who was the Inquisitor prior to the Breach, and what if he was on the wrong side of the war?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Regicide

Ravens. It was always the ravens. They settled on the gables of the Chantry before the injured became the dead, and watched with their bleak, emotionless eyes as men drew their final breaths.

 

The town-square ran red. Blood flooding the gutter, the fountain, even seeping in-between the cracks in the pavement. Corpses were strewn across the city, and barely any ground could be seen underneath the bodies and the blood.

 

Ostwick had been invaded by Templars driven utterly mad by withdrawals of Lyrium due to their separation from the Chantry, and every able-bodied man who knew the sharp end of a blade from the hilt had been called on to defend their home.

 

And that had involved Bann Trevelyan, and his oldest son.

 

Cantis Trevelyan, eldest to the his line and only child to the lord and lady Trevelyan, rolled himself over and onto his back. His whole body was racked by pain, and his blood was pounding in his ears and behind his eyes. He could feel every last instant that passed as the agony grew worse and worse, and he could feel his arm wrenching in his socket where a Templar had shattered the joint with a warhammer. He breathed hard, and clutched the broken limb.

 

The silence stretched out as he breathed. The square was covered with the stench of death and corpses, a deep, sickly odor of decaying corpses and what smelled like stale fish, crept up and into his nostrils. The pain was worse: Every muscle in his upper body was burning.

 

With every ounce of strength that he had in his body, he stood. He knew what would happen to him if he remained here in the gutter: He would slowly run out of blood, and the dying would join the dead. His legs wobbled, and he could feel the blood drain from his head, but he remained standing.

 

He leaned against a nearby wall, blinking away the haze of death in his eyes, and watched the ravens above him.

 

_Not today._

 

Father and his soldiers would be on the other side of the square, and they would have the Bann's healers, as well as bandages and Elfroot, or, at the very least, someone to slot his arm back into his body.

 

That wasn't the case.

 

He stumbled across the square, stumbling and falling several times even in just the short distance, gasping for breath as though there were a spear driven through his chest. His whole body shook in a shuttering gasp of breath, and he stood again.

 

_One foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other, one foot in front of the other..._

 

Cantis froze when he saw what had been his father's chokepoint. Corpses decorated the cobblestone roads, laying in their final positions before death. Some were even still clutching their wounds, their terror of death kept on their faces even in death.

 

“Father!” He called in a voice that was strangled, not sounding at all like himself. “Dad!” Cantis looked around frantically, eyes darting from corpse to corpse. The street was not only covered in the dead of Ostwick, but of the Templars as well, which made it all the harder to pick out a single body amongst the massacre.

 

And then he saw his father.

 

Bann Trevelyan lay on the cold stones that ran with blood, with two arrows in his back, and long gashes and flesh wounds across his whole body.

 

“Dad!” Cantis cried in shock, and ran as best he could to his father's side. “No, no no.” He sobbed, using his only good arm to roll his father onto his back, where he saw that the throat of Bann Trevelyan had been slit. “No. You can't be dead.” He knelt, and felt his father's heart, even though he, deep in his heart, knew it was useless. “Please don't be dead.”

 

Cantis Trevelyan hung his head, and wept.


	2. Unity

The next few weeks passed in a blur. His mother held a pyre for his father, but Cantis didn't attend, still in shock and denial over the fact that his father had been slain. He remained in his room, rarely eating or sleeping, and the city rarely caught any glimpse of it's only remaining lord. His mother was sworn in as the new Bann shortly after, but her son was missing from the coordination.

 

Three weeks after the battle of Ostwick, a knock came at the door that would change everything.

 

“Cantis.” His mother's voice was soft and gentle, but he heard it. “Someone's here to see you, sweet heart. I think you'll want to see him.”

 

“Send him in.” His voice was old and deeper than usual, unused for so long.

 

The door opened, and a man in red armour walked in.

 

“Good...” Cantis looked out the window, unsure of what time it was. “Afternoon, I suppose.”

 

“And to you.” The man nodded, and offered a hand.

 

“I'm terribly sorry if I'm... poor company.” Cantis' voice was shaky, his voice unused to saying more than a few words at any time. “My Father was recently murdered, and I'm still in mourning.”

 

The man nodded. “I had heard. You have my sympathies.” Cantis nodded a little in acknowledgement. “ I take it you two were close?”

 

Cantis nodded. “He taught me everything I know.”

 

“I'm sorry.” He offered, and Cantis gave a small smile. “My name is Samson. Raleigh Samson.” Cantis raised an eyebrow, trying to place where he had heard that name before.

 

“My name is Cantis Trevelyan.” He offered, and Samson nodded. “I'm assuming you didn't come up here just to exchange pleasantries.”

 

Samson shook his head. “I come representing a... Tevinter interests organization who are interested in ending this Mage-Templar war. I'd come to obtain your mother's support for our organization, and she also recommended that I come and talk with you.”

 

Cantis quirked an eyebrow. “Talk to  _ me _ ? About what?”  As Bann, his mother had more political power than he did. Anything she couldn't do, he couldn't do.

 

“Our group needs political support if we want any sort of chance to stop the war, but I am also here recruiting soldiers for us.”

 

“Soldiers?” Cantis raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you were interested in _stopping_ this war?”

 

Samson shook his head. “We are, but you know as well as I do that if we just shake our fingers at them, nothing is ever going to change.” Their eyes met. “People fear change. If we don't prepare ourselves for violent resistance, we've already failed.”

 

Cantis nodded. “I see.” He bit his lip, contemplation. “And you want me to join you as a soldier?” A knot formed in his stomach. If these people were truly trying to end the war...

 

Samson nodded. “Your mother says you have been trained as a knight.” Cantis nodded, having trained with his father's soldiers to be a warrior. “Then yes, we need skilled agents in our ranks, and I think you can help us.”

 

He swallowed. “Maybe. I think I have to ask some questions first.” Samson nodded. “You said that you're Tevinter? Why are you interested in ending the war if you're mages?”

 

“Is that what you see?” Samson laughed. “Our founders are from Tevinter, and one of them is a mage, yes, but this war benefits absolutely no one. I myself used to be a Templar, but that doesn’t matter among us. This war will destroy everyone and everything in Thedas unless we can put it to a close under one banner.”

 

Cantis was shaking. This was the biggest decision he had ever made. He considered refusing, staying here at the noble life, growing old in peace, being able to find some pretty girl to add to the Trevelyan line...

 

But none of that would happen if the war killed them all. The Templars and Mages had already killed tens of thousands of innocent people, including his father, and the conflict was young yet. If no one curtailed them...

 

He nodded, and offered a hand out. “I accept your offer, Raleigh Samson.”

 

S amson shook his hand. “Welcome to the Venatori, Ser Trevelyan.”


	3. Vindication

Why the gardens around the Arl's palace in Denerim were never guarded, Cantis had no idea. He picked the lock on the backdoor, pulled his hood over his head, and slipped inside.

 

An elven servant inside dropped the serving tray she was holding when she heard him enter, and she jumped, turning around wildly to see him. “W-who're you?” Her voice was shaky, and it was clear he had scared the daylight out of the poor woman.

 

“Visiting dignitary.” He said simply, angling his head down to conceal his face. That was the easiest lie available, and Samson had said it would get him past most of the servants, who were treated as garbage by the nobility anyways.

 

“You startled me, you did!”

 

“Terribly sorry. Didn't mean to.” He said shortly. His voice was intentionally deeper to conceal his identity, and he began walking.

 

“How did you get in here, sera?” The woman asked, still taken aback, almost cowering from him. “The door was locked, it was.”

 

He stopped, and breathed deeply. If he was discovered by a servant, this would be over before it began. “I don't know what to tell you madame.” He said slowly. “I took a walk out in the gardens, and the door was unlocked when I came back in.”

 

“Madame?!” She laughed. “T-thank you sera. N-no one's ever been so polite to me in my life.” She cocked her head to the side a little. “I would have thought I would remember a proper gentleman like you.”

 

“People tend not to remember someone like me.”

 

He continued walking, and into the hallway. Now he was running on a clock: The woman was sure to tell someone else about how pleasant he had been, and someone was sure to discover him. He had briefly thought about hitting her to keep up the façade of a visitor, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He was here to end the suffering of innocent people, not compound it.

 

Cantis bit hard on his lip, steadying his jangling nerves. It had been a little more than three months since he had joined up with the Venatori, and had carried out a dozen successful operations against people who would be in opposition, or otherwise be in the way, to the end of the Mage-Templar war, but none were this dangerous.

 

Today was the day he killed  Vaughan Kendell s, acting Arl of Denerim.  If he was caught...

 

Technically,  the Hero of Ferelden, Marilina Amell, was the Arlessa of both Denerim and  Amaranthine , but since she was still the Commander of the Grey in Ferelden, and her only real kin, her wife named Leliana, was the Left Hand of the Divine, the city had Vaughan, the former Arl, act as Arl while she was away.  She was the only reason he was alive. She had released him from the Denerim dungeons after Arl Howe had imprisoned him there.

 

To quote her: “No man deserves that kind of suffering. Not even a murdering rapist.”

 

Cantis didn't agree.

 

Of course, no one in the city  would ever listen to what  Vaughan said or did,  regardless of if he was Arl or not . They all knew the story  of how Vaughan had kidnapped and raped several elves from the Alienage, and then executed their families who came to rescue them. Even people who disregarded elves as animals had difficulty listening to the details. And now that he was in strong favour of the Mage-Templar conflict, the Venatori had issued an assassination order to Cantis.

 

Not that anyone would miss the man.

 

He found where the orders said the Arl's quarters were, and picked the lock. With only a moment's pause, he felt the hand-crossbow in his equipment belt, and opened the door.

 

The man was in front of the fireplace, sitting in a large, fancy chair. “Arl Kendell s?”  Cantis asked, pulling the crossbow from the sling and into his hand.

 

Vaughan  stood, and turned frantically. “Who in the hell are you?!” He shouted.

 

“The Venatori send their regards.” And with that, he lifted the crossbow, and pulled the trigger. The bolt pierced the Bastard's throat, and he choked to death on his own blood.

 

“A fitting end to the worst man ever to curse this city.” He muttered to himself, and lowered the weapon, loading a new bolt into it.

 

He heard a surprised gasp from behind him, and whirled around to see it's source. The same elven servant from earlier was standing there, cowering from him. “W-what have you done?”

 

He should have felt fear from her. If she called the guards, there was no way he could single-handedly fight his way out of the palace. If she uttered a word, he would die.

 

But he felt nothing of the sort. Instead, a surge of courage went through him, and he smiled.

 

Cantis looked back to the dead man, and back up at her. “All I've ever wanted.” He tossed a coin purse of ten sovereigns to her, and she caught it. “Made the world a better place.” He walked past her, and she shuddered as he passed. If she called for him to die, at least he would have died protecting more innocent people from this bastard.

 

“Milord.” She stammered, and he turned. “T-thank you. Whoever you are, thank you.”

 

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**At The Gnawed Noble Tavern**

Cantis sat down at the bar booth beside Samson in the corner room, who had been waiting for him, and ordered a drink.

 

“Is it done with?” Samson whispered without looking at Cantis after their waitress had left earshot, leaving them the only people in the room and Cantis nodded indiscreetly.

 

“The bastard's never hurting anyone ever again.” He quietly confirmed. He had thought it a bad idea to remain in the city, especially after hearing the bells and drums in the distance after the Arl had been discovered, but then he had realized that they wouldn't search the high end part of town. They would spent days searching the Alienage first.

 

“The world is better for it.” He turned to Cantis. “You've been extremely helpful to us, Ser Trevelyan.”

 

Cantis gave an appreciative smile. “We're a good cause.” And he believed it. He had seen the efforts the Venatori had made to eliminate the supporters of the war, and wear the Templars and Mages down to a point where they would both agree to give up arms. “We do good work. I'm just pleased to be a part of it all.”

 

Samson nodded, and leaned in towards Cantis. “Listen.” He looked around, but no one was in the room, let alone within earshot. “You're the best man I have on staff, and you're the only one I trust with this mission. What I'm going to say can't be repeated to anyone. Ever.”

 

Cantis nodded his head, listening. “You can trust me. I'll do anything to stop this madness.”

 

“Good.” He leaned in. “Listen to me: We have found evidence that Divine Justinia has been playing both sides, providing supplies to the Apostates, and Lyrium to the Templars.”

 

The Trevelyan raised an eyebrow. “The Divine?” He couldn't shout, not here. His voice was an urgent whisper. “Why in the hell would she be interested in prolonging this?”

 

Samson shook his head. “What we've found suggests that she's interested in having the Templars and Mages rip each other apart so she can begin the Chantry again.”

 

“What would she gain other than a couple hundred dead followers?”

 

Samson sighed. “The Chantry has incredible power all across Thedas, as I'm certain you know. With a snap of their fingers, a holy war could be issued. We're only as free as they say we are. Power is like a drink. The more you have, the more you want. And there's few men who can handle it.” He looked at Cantis. “And Justinia can't handle it.”

 

“Damn.” Cantis met Samson's eyes. “Are you sure?”

 

“I was a Templar. If I wasn't absolutely certain of this, I wouldn't be saying anything.”

 

Cantis sighed, and hung his head. “Alright. What are we going to do then?”

 

“She's holding a Conclave in a week, at the Temple of Sacred Ashes.” He passed an invitation over the table, and Cantis took it. “She's invited the heads of both the Mages and the Templars. No doubt she intends to stroke the flames of their conflict. You are going to accompany our founder and several senior members, and you are going to take care of her. The others will know what to do.”

 

“Alright.” Cantis swallowed hard, and pocketed the invitation. “I should get going today if I want to be at the Temple in a week.”

 

“One more thing.” Samson said just before Cantis stood. “Our founder, Corypheus, he's...” He trailed off, searching for the right words. “He looks very different.” Their eyes met. “He is a Tevinter magister, who... had a spell go very wrong. Don't say anything about it.”

 

Cantis nodded. “Alright. Don't mention...” He raised an eyebrow. “What was it? Corypheus?” Samson nodded. “Don't mention his appearance. Got it.” He stood, and pushed in the stool. “I swore I would do anything to end this insanity. If this is the price of restoring order to the world...” He sighed. “I hope that we're doing the right thing.”

 

“We are.”

 

Cantis clasped Samson on the shoulder. “Then I'll see you on the other side.”


	4. Sundered Sky

_Author's Note: To everyone who favourites/follows/likes/kudos’/whatever my stories: Thank you. you all make my day with every single button press. Whenever my inbox is filled with support, a genuine smile breaks out on my face, and comments/reviews bring tears to my eyes. I love you all. <3 _

 

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Cantis pried his eyes open, and blinked in the darkness. Agonizing pain burned in his hand as it glowed... green? Why in the hell was his hand green?

 

It flared in an emerald flash, and he screamed in torture as it felt like his hand was being ripped apart by hooks dragged from the inside of his hand.

 

As the haze of pain cleared, he realized that he was in a cold dungeon, alone. He was utterly alone, with only a hazy memory and pain. Where was he? He tried desperately to remember what had left him here...

 

The last thing in his memory was the battle of Ostwick. _Finding his father's fallen figure, walking home alone and bleeding to death, meeting his mother's worried gaze and being unable to answer her when she asked why he was alone._

 

Wherever he had awoken was eerily silent. Nothing broke the silence except for his own heartbeat and breath. There was no one in the room, no movement. The world was utterly still, as though everyone and everything in it except for him had been raptured.

 

The doors to the dungeon were thrown open, and two women strode into the dungeon with him, one wearing metal armour, and another in chainmail with a hood drawn over her head.

 

“Give me one reason I shouldn't kill you right now.” The armoured woman, with a serious expression and scowling eyes, hissed.

 

Cantis shook his head desperately, confused tears in his eyes. “Who are you?”

 

The woman in armour hit him across the face. “What were you doing at the Divine's conclave?”

 

“Conclave?” He whispered in terrified confusion. “What co-”

 

Another slap across the face, the metal in her gauntlet cutting into his cheek. “Look, I don't know what you're talking about.”

 

She grabbed him around the shoulders, and shook him. “You're lying!” Her voice was adamant, but he could feel a shaking in her hands.

 

The other woman intervened, pulling her away. “Cassandra! We need him alive.” She turned to Cantis. “Do you know what happened?”

 

He shook his head. “I don't even know where I am. The last thing I remember is going to sleep in Ostwick.”

 

The two woman shared a look. “What day is it?” The hooded woman asked him.

 

“It's...” He paused, thinking back desperately, the haze in his mind making even basic memory a challenge. “T-the twenty-first of Harvestmere.”

 

Again, they shared a look. “It's the thirtieth of Guardian.”

 

His eyes widened, and he felt his jaw hang open. That couldn't be right. Solis was four months four months from now!

 

“So you don't remember the Divine's Conclave?”

 

“No!” His voice was hoarse and urgent. “What are you talking about?”

 

The hooded woman sighed, and rubbed her eyes. “What do we do now?” She asked the armoured woman.

 

“Do you think he could be lying?” She sounded doubtful.

 

“No.” She looked over her shoulder at him, and shook her head. “From the looks of him, he's telling the truth.” She sighed, and hung her head. “What now?”

 

“Now? We hope that he can close the Breach.”

 

“And if he can't? What do we do then, Cassandra”

 

“Then we pray that the Maker has mercy on us.” She gestured to the door. “Get to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take him there.” She turned to Cantis. “It will be easier for him to understand if he sees it himself.”

 

The hooded woman, Leliana, left, and the armoured woman helped him up from off of his knees. “Divine Justinia held peace talks between the Mages and Templars at the Temple of Sacred Ashes.” She explained as she guided him down the halls of their dungeon.

 

“The Temple of Sacred Ashes?!” He asked, stumbling over his feet. “That's a thousand miles away!”

 

She shook her head. “We're in the village of Haven, just outside the Temple.”

  
He stopped in his footsteps, his knees shaking. “W-where have I been for four months?!” He shrieked, not at her, but rather at the world.  
  


And it was at that point Cassandra realized he was innocent.

 

As they exited the dank darkness of the fortress, Cantis was blinded by the bright, caldon colour of the skies above the village. He blinked the blinding light out of his eyes, rubbing them as best he could with shackles around his wrists. “What in the hell is that?!” He shrieked, realizing that the light was emanating from a gigantic hole where the sky was torn asunder.

 

“That,” Cassandra murmured in a quiet voice. “Is the Temple of Sacred Ashes.” Quieter. “Or what's left of it.” She looked down, and closed her eyes in remembrance. “There was a massive explosion, and it destroyed the Temple.”

 

“An explosion can do that?” His voice was strangled and torn in disbelief. Surely nothing had that kind of power.

 

“This one did.” As she spoke, the hole seemed to grow just the slightest bit bigger, and he screamed in agony, the mark on his hand burning again, and he feel to his knees.

 

Cassandra knelt by him. “Listen to me. We believe that mark on your hand was placed on your hand by whatever caused this. It may be the key to closing it.”

 

“You think it can close that... thing?” Cantis spoke in a pained strangled voice, his hand feeling like it was eating itself from the inside.

 

“I hope so.” She didn't sound confident. “It might not. It is our only chance, however.”

 

Cantis took in a heavy, deep sigh, and nodded. “Alright.”

 

She turned her head hopefully. “Then...”

 

“I'm with you.” He stood in spite of the agony it caused. “I don't know if I can do anything to stop this. But I will give anything for a chance to stop this.”

 

She unlocked his shackles, and the restraints feel to the snow beneath his feet with a solid thud against the winter's tears.

 

“What happened?” He asked as he followed her towards the gates of Haven. “What was this conclave exactly?”

 

Cassandra bit her lower lip, thinking for a moment before speaking. “It was an effort for peace between the Mages and the Templars, hosted by the Divine herself.” She motioned, and they walked towards the gates. “Ten thousand people were inside the Temple. You're the only survivor.”

 

He stopped in his tracks. “Ten thousand?” His voice was almost angry, but it was more shocked and in disbelief. It wasn't loud, but she could tell the distress in his voice. Cantis had never met ten thousand people in his lifetime, let alone seen that many die one instant...

 

A moment later he forced himself to keep walking, each step feeling like he had to rip his feet from the ground. “W-was I at the Temple when this... conclave was happening? How did you find me?”

 

Cassandra shook her head. “I don't know where you were, or what you were doing when the conclave was happening.” She looked him in the eyes, and he shivered under the ice in them. “All we know is that you... stepped out of a rift several hours after the Temple was destroyed.” She turned her head, and continued walking. “There was a woman in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was.” She looked back at him. “Do you remember anything at all?”

 

He shook his head sadly. “I don't remember anything since my father was killed when the Templars attacked Ostwick. I'm sorry.” It hurt in a twisting knot of guilt in his chest. He was desperately trying to remember something, anything, if even the slightest moment, the smallest detail could help them. But there was nothing.

 

“You have no idea who this woman is?” She asked, hoping to stir something, anything from him, but he shook his head.

 

“No. I-” He was cut off when a man, dressed in butcher's clothes approached him, anger in his eyes and a knife in his hands.

 

“You!” He hissed. “You killed the Divine, didn't you?”

 

“I swear I-” The man swung his knife at Cantis, who ducked under the blade. Before he had a chance to attack again, Cassandra punched the butcher in the side of the head, knocking him down. Two soldiers came up from behind him, and restrained the man, pulling him away.

 

“We will watch you die, murderer!” The man shouted even as he was dragged off. “I want to watch you put on the gallows, see the noose around your neck and pull the fucking lever with my own two hands!”

 

Cassandra sighed disappointingly. “The people here have already decided your guilt. They need it to cope with the loss of their divine.”

 

Cantis cringed, feeling remorse at these people's pain, but continued following Cassandra. That man very clearly cared about the people who had been wronged, and he would do whatever he could to stop this insanity.


	5. Ice and Blood

When the Inquisition and the Mage Rebellion managed to close the Breach, every single person in the Inquisition broke down laughing and crying in absolute joy of survival. They were dancing and singing, lovers were crying and embracing each other in rejoice of their lives. There was wine and food for everyone, and their shouts of life carried across the valley.

 

Except for Cantis.

 

The so-called Herald was sitting alone on a balcony just outside of Haven's Chantry, legs resting up on a table, watching the eerie green scar in the skies above him where the Breach had been.

 

“I'm surprised you're not celebrating.” A soft voice said, and he turned. It was the Inquisition’s spymaster, Leliana. She had her hood pulled down for once, and had a wary smile on her face.

 

“I am.” He stretched a little more, and sat further into his chair. “I'm just relaxing.”

 

“Oh, come now.” She sat on a chair beside him. “You closed a massive hole in the sky, and saved the world. You should be stuffing your face with an entire cake right about now.”

 

Cantis smiled, and continued to stare onto the horizon. “Is the Breach still sealed?”

 

Leliana nodded. “Solas says that the sky is still scarred, maybe forever, but the Breach is gone. We are still getting reports of Rifts remaining, but this was a victory.” She smiled. “You did it.”

 

He shook his head. “You know just how many people were involved in this. Luck put me at the centre, nothing else.”

 

“This was more than luck.” Leliana insisted. “If nothing else, it was _your_ efforts, _your_ alliances that saved us.” A moment passed. “But you are right. This was victory of alliances, one of the first in years.” A smile. “It reminds me of the Blight a little.”

 

They settled in, enjoying the cool of the night and the joyous shouts of survival beneath them.

 

“There's a storm coming.” He remarked after several minutes.

 

Leliana snorted. “After all that we've been through, I doubt a little rain will do much.”

 

“Doesn't look like it will be a _little_ rain.” He smiled, but it was grim and  determined, mirthless.

 

“Even if it's a hurricane, it can't be worse than what we just survived.” She cocked her head at him with an inquisitive look on her face. “We're not talking about the weather, are we?”

 

He shook his head. “No, we're not.”

 

A minute passed in silence. “You're worried about this Elder One, aren't you?”

 

Cantis gave a chuckle. “You're remarkable.”

 

“My wife tells me so.” She smiled with her perfectly white teeth. “And you didn't answer me.”

 

He nodded. “Yeah, I am. He's already taken over the world once, and I'm not sure that he's someone that I'm eager to tackle.” His eyes fluttered close, remembering the grim future he and Dorian had witnessed in which this Elder One had taken over the world.

 

“Maybe now that the Breach is closed,” She offered. “This Elder One won't be able to fight us.”

 

“Maybe.” But they both knew that the other didn't believe that for a moment.

 

Several more minutes passed as they sat in silence, listening to the sounds of celebration below, carrying well into the night.

 

“So,” He said to break the uncomfortable silence. “I didn't know you were married.” Not that it was surprising he didn't know much about her. The Breach had barely been open two months before the Inquisition had managed to close it, and there had barely been time to talk in that time. Survival had surpassed socialization.

 

Leliana giggled. “Surely you've heard the story of the Hero of Ferelden?” Their eyes met, and he quirked an eyebrow. “She would be my wife.”

 

He say for a moment, not understanding. “Oh!” He exclaimed after a moment. “You're the Leliana from the stories!”

 

She threw her head back and laughed out loud. “Surely you figured that out by now?”

 

“I, er-” He stammered. “I've had a lot more to worry about.” She scoffed. “Hey! I-” He stopped very suddenly.

 

“What?” Leliana whispered after a moment.

 

“Listen.”

 

At first, she heard nothing.

 

And then, a faint drum could be heard in the distance.

 

“What is that?” He whispered, standing up.

 

Now Leliana was seriously worried. Ordinarily, she would have said it was a part of the celebrations, but, not an hour earlier, several of her agents had stopped reporting. She had pulled the remainder back to determine what was happening, but none of them had reported back to Haven yet.

 

Then the screams began.

 

Both of them bolted out of their chairs, and Cantis vaulted over the railing of the balcony, landing in the snow beneath. Leliana, realizing she didn't have time to go inside and around to the front doors, followed suit.

 

Sprinting to the walls, they both gasped in shock when they saw what was happening.

 

“Maker...”

 

Hundreds, maybe thousands of men were on the horizon riding horses with flaming torches in their hands like fireflies.

 

Haven's bells were ringing now, and Cullen ran out from the battlements, drawing a blade. “Forces approaching!” He shouted, rallying their soldiers. “To arms!”

 

They dashed for the gates, meeting Cassandra, Josephine and Varric. “Cullen?!” Cassandra shouted, her own blade drawn.

 

“One watchguard reporting.” He was out of breath as they reached the gates. “It's a massive force. The bulk is still over the mountain.

 

“Under what banner?” Josephine asked.

 

“None.”

 

“None?!” She was in disbelief. An army of that size had to be _someone_ attacking. “ Is Ferelden attack us?!”

 

“I don't know!”

 

A loud banging came on the gates, and they all tensed.

 

“I can't come in unless you open.” It as a voice none of them had ever heard before, and they all exchanged looks. It didn't sound hostile, but still...

 

Cantis helped a guard open the gates, and just outside was a boy, who looked no older than sixteen, with two blades in his hands.

 

“I'm Cole.” He said. “I came to warn you. To help.” He gestured towards the mountains with a blade. “People are coming to hurt you.” He paused for a moment. “You probably already know.”

 

“Who are they?” Cantis hissed, blood rushing through his ears.. “What's going on?”

 

A pause. “The Templars come to kill you.”

 

“Templars?!” Cullen shouted in disbelief, and the boy shrank back at the sudden noise. “Is this the Order's response to our talks with the Mages? To attack blindly?!”

 

The boy shook his head. “The Red Templars went to the Elder One.” He turned to Cantis. “You know him? He knows you.” A pause. “You took his mages.” He turned, and pointed. “There.”

 

Up on the rocks was a man in Red Armour, and what looked like some sort of malformed demon, and Cantis froze.

 

“I know that man.” Cullen said in a confused voice. “But who is this Elder One?”

 

Cantis felt petrified to the spot. He didn't recognize either of these men, but somehow he did. Something tugged at him from his memories from before the Breach, the haze of which he couldn't remember. Something distantly called from his mind, but he couldn't recognize it.

 

These two were somehow related to his wayward memories.

 

“He's very angry you took him mages.” The boy summed up.

 

“Cullen!” Cantis said in an urgent whisper, unrooting his feet. Whatever these men had to do with him and his past, it didn't matter, not now. Not so long as Haven was in danger of being overrun. “Give me a plan, a tactic! Anything!”

 

Cullen shook his head. “Haven is no fortress. If we are to withstand this, we must control the battle.” Cantis nodded. “Get out there and hit that force with everything you have!” He turned to the mages behind them. “Mages! You-you have sanction to engage them!” He drew his blade. “That is Samson. He will not make this easy.”

 

_Samson..._ The name felt somehow familiar...

 

Cantis drew his blade, and faced the army.

 

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**Later...**

Cantis brought the trebuchet to a full tension, and released it into the mountain. The overburdened snow building up on the mountain came crashing down onto the oncoming army of Templars.

 

He gave a half-laugh, half-sigh of relief. Varric smiled widely and clapped him on the back, ecstatic over the victory. He looked up and saw Cantis' expression, which had melted into utter horror. He met where the Herald was gazing, and realized what he was looking at.

 

An Archdemon was flying towards them.

 

They dove for the ground, just in time to avoid it's breath of fire, which incinerated the siege machine completely just moments after they got out of the way.

 

“What in the hell is that thing?!” Varric screamed.

 

Cantis shook his head in disbelief. “Everyone, get back to the gates!”

 

They sprinted for the walls of Haven, doing their best to stay out of the sight of the Dragon above them, who was raining death upon the innocent town, burning all in it's way.

 

At the Chantry, Cullen and Roderick were ushering everyone inside, watching the Dragon nervously. “Everyone in the Chantry!” He shouted. “It's the only building that might stand against... that... thing!”

 

That odd boy from earlier helped Roderick in, who was leaning heavily on him, and they closed the great doors.

 

“Herald!” Cullen's voice was hoarse and desperate. “Our position is _not_ good. That Dragon stole whatever time you bought us.

 

“The Elder One doesn't care for Haven.” The boy said, setting Roderick down on a chair. “He only wants the Herald.”

 

“If it will save these people, he can have me.” Cantis' tone was urgent, but adamant. He could give anything to stop this war, or to save these people. Too many innocents had been caught in the way of these people.

 

The boy shook his head. “It won't. He wants to kill you. No one else matter, but he'll crush them, kill them anyways.” He didn't speak for a moment. “I don't like him.”

 

“You don't like...?” Cullen shrugged and shook his head, turning to Cantis. “Herald, there are no tactics to make this survivable. The only thing that slowed them was the avalanche.” He sighed, and hung his head in desperation. “We can still turn the remaining siege equipment, cause one last slide.”

 

Cantis shook his head. “We're overrun. To hit any of them, we would have to bury Haven.”

 

The general nodded. “We're dying, but we can choose how. Most don't get that chance.”

 

Roderick looked over to the War Room of the Inquisition, and the boy followed his gaze. “Yes,” He spoke after a moment of silence. “That.” He stood, and interjected himself into their conversation. “He can help, and he wants to say it before he dies.”

  
“The people,” Roderick rasped, clutching where he had been wounded earlier. “Can escape. She mus... Andraste must have shown me so I could... tell you...” He coughed, standing up. “You wouldn't know the way out of here unless you've made the Summer Pilgrimage, as I have.”

 

Cantis turned to Cullen. “Do you think you can get them out of... wherever he's showing us?

 

Cullen nodded his head after a moment. “Maybe. If he shows us a way out.”

 

“Go then. It's their only chance. I'll get to the trebuchet and bury Haven once you're out of here.”

 

He shook his head. “But, what about yo-” He met Cantis' gaze, and realized what he was intending. “Maybe... maybe you can surprise it, or-”

 

The Herald clapped his General on the shoulder. “I'll see you in hell, Cullen.” And at that, he turned and left into the cold frozen night of the Winter's Still. Facing the Templars, utterly alone, he drew his greatsword, and charged.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

 

**At The Inquisition's Siege Equipment**

Against all odds, Cantis made it to the trebuchet, carving a pathway through the Red Templars and destroying some ungodly behemoth that was more red lyrium than man, uncovering unpleasant memories of the future Fiona they had seen in their vision of the future.

 

As he brought the engine of war to full tension, ready to fire, the Archdemon turned it's attention to him, roaring and diving at him. Realizing he didn't have time to fire the trebuchet before it incinerated him, Cantis ran and dove for cover,  and rolled out of the way of it's fiery blast.

 

When the smoke cleared, Cantis saw two men walking out of it that hadn't been there before. The demon and the armoured man from earlier. The dragon landed behind him, cutting off any sort of exit.

 

“I never should have sent _you_ after the Divine.” The armoured man shook his head, a greatsword in his hand. “I thought that you were loyal enough to our cause to not give you the lyrium.” He shook his head. “This ends here.”

 

“Who in the hell are you?!” Cantis asked, slowly edging towards the trebuchet. “What do you mean, you didn't give me lyrium? Why would you have?”

 

The armoured man, apparently Samson, scoffed. “He doesn't even know who he is any more, doesn't even know what he ruins.”

 

“Enough!” The demon-thing spoke in a booming voice that sounded like it came from three different beings, and Samson took a step back, although he still clutched his weapon. “Pretender.” He pointed at Cantis. “You toy with forces beyond the understanding of your simple mind. No longer.”

 

Cantis held his blade tightly in both hands, and steadied his nerves. Whatever these two people were, he would face them down. The innocent people of Haven were depending on him. “Whatever you are,” His voice was adamant, and he pointed his blade towards the pair. “I don't fear you.”

 

If demons could chuckle, this beast did. “Words mortals often hurl at the darkness. Once they were mine. Always, always lies.” He shook his head. “Know me, know what you pretend to be.” He lowered his head, and his red eyes met Cantis'. “Exalt the Elder One! The  _will_ that is Corypheus!” He extended a finger out at Cantis. “You will kneel.”

 

“You'll...” Cantis had an exhausted and confused voice. “You'll get nothing out of me.”

 

“You should listen to him now, _whelp_.” Samson sneered with a mad smile painted on his lips. “Better now than when he rules your world.”

 

“They will resist.” Corypheus didn't sound at all surprised, although his voice had very few tones to it in any case. “You will always resist. It matters not.” As he spoke, he held out an engraved orb in his hand. “I am here for the anchor you stole from me. The process of removing it begins now.” He held out a hand, and it flashed red in magical power.

 

The mark on Cantis' hand that had closed the Breach glowed green like it did when he used it to close rifts, and he screamed in pain, the very nerves in his hand ripping apart at Corypheus' magic.

 

“It is your fault, _herald_.” He scoffed as Cantis fell to the ground. “You came along with me for a ritual years in the making, and you ruined it. Instead of having the grace to die, you took it's power from me, and used it to undo my work.” He scoffed. “ What marks your as _touched_ and what you flail at riftslike a petulant child, was crafted to assault the very heavens.” 

 

The red magic in Corypheus' hand flared, and Cantis screamed, falling to the ground. “And you used it to undo my work.  The gall.”  He gave a tilt of his head, and Samson approached the fallen Herald, and picked him up by the neck. Cantis raised his left arm, pressing his palm into his forehead.

 

“I once breached the fade in the name of another,” Corypheus growled as the Red Templar brought Cantis up to see. “To serve the Old Gods of the empire in person. I found only chaos and corruption. Whispers of dead men. For a thousand years I was confused. No longer.” Samson held Cantis up for Corypheus to see. “Beg that I succeed. For I have seen the throne of the gods, and _it was empty!_ ”

 

Corypheus dispelled the spell, and lowered his hand. “It seems the anchor is permanent. You have  _spoiled_ it with your stumbling.” He motioned  decisively with his hand. “Kill him. Now!”

 

Samson brought a blade up to Cantis' throat, but there was something he hadn't realized. While the magister had been talking, a signal arrow had been shot up from the treeline above Haven, signaling that everyone was safely out of reach.

 

Something else no one else had realized was that in a hidden sleeve of the cloth just under his bicep, he always kept a concealed tantō knife. Cantis grabbed the hilt of the blade, pulled it out, and jammed the sharpened steel of the blade into Samson's eye.

 

The Templar screamed in agony and dropped the Herald. Cantis jumped to his feet and ran for the  trebuchet,  grabbing his blade as he stood.  An explosion of red power flew over his head, and he knew that he didn't have long before one of the men behind him killed him. Between the Templar, and magister, and a fucking dragon, he didn't have long at all.

 

The firing mechanism had been broken off by the dragon's fire,  but it didn't matter. It wasn't as if it was ever going to fire again. He swung his blade, and cleaved through the chain that brought up the tension. The trebuchet was released, and the boulder inside slammed into the snow of Haven's mountains, and an avalanche began to bury the village.

 

Samson, the blade that had gouged his eye still lodged firmly inside of his head, brought his blade to bear against the Herald. Cantis tried to block with his own sword, but a single crushing blow of the Templar's greatsword tore the blade in two, the metal giving way under the sheer might of the blow. Then he brought the broadsword up, stabbing Cantis in the chest.

 

“Enough!” Corypheus shouted, and Samson looked over his shoulder at the Magister. “We must go. Let him die in the cold.”

 

The dragon whisked both Corypheus and Samson away, and Cantis was left in the snow as the avalanche fell.


	6. A Hero Named Hawke

Leliana rested herself against her chair, admiring the fire in front of her, realizing that, for the first time in a long time, she was free. Her agents were all out on missions, she had read all of her letters, the repairs of Skyhold were well underway and taken care of.

 

And her thoughts slipped to Mara. Her beautiful wife.

 

Skyhold was so desolate and cold. Josie was doing her best to comfort Leliana, especially after Haven added onto everything else, but she knew that the only thing that would heal her spirit was her soulmate, her missing half.

 

The Warden-Commander was off, away on a mission to find some sort of a cure for the Calling that was slowly killing her and every last Warden on the planet. It had hounded the mage ever since the Blight had ended, her closeness to the Archdemon and so many Darkspawn having accelerated it's effect on the young woman.

 

Maker, it had been four years since they had parted ways with tears and loving words. When the Warden had awoken covered in the Black Blisters that marked the Blight, they knew that they needed a way to cure it, or the woman would soon be dead.

 

_She is already dead._

 

The treacherous thoughts crawled in her head, but she shook them away. Mara wasn't dead. She couldn't be. Leliana would know, she would have to. She would continued believing that her angel would return, until she the day she saw proof that the mage had gone to paradise.

 

_Please don't let her be dead._

 

Leliana bit her lip, bracing herself. She was used to bottling up her emotions. At Marjoline's betrayal, at Justinia's death, at Haven... but this pain, these traitorous thoughts... she couldn't contain herself whenever these thoughts came, when she took her mind off of her work.

 

Wiping her eyes, she returned to work to take her mind off of her missing wife.

 

Although not before praying for Mara's safety.

 

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**Menawhile...**

“Your Inquisitorialness.”

 

Cantis rolled over in his bed when he heard Varric's voice, sitting up slightly to see the Dwarf. It had been less than a week since Solas had guided the Inquisition to the fortress, and Cantis had been bed-ridden with his wounds ever since Haven. How he had survived, he had no idea, only knowing that he had awoken some time later in a dark, cold place, barely alive.

 

“Yeah?” Cantis groaned as he sat up, resting against the fur pillows. “What do you need, Varric?”

 

“You feeling alright?” He asked, shuffling a foot uncomfortably. He wasn't quite sure how to address the newly-crowned Inquisitor, since he had never been one for religion in general and with everyone revering him as a saviour, he wasn't sure what their relationship would be now.

 

He groaned, struggling against the bandages wrapped around his chest to sit up. “Healer says I'll be fine in a few days. Considering what happened, that's the best we could have hoped for.”

 

Varric nodded. “Good. Bianca was worried about you.”

 

Cantis laughed. “Ooh. I don't suppose you're getting jealous?”

 

“Nah.” Varric shook his head. “If you try anything, I'll just take away Ruffles. The way you're been eyeing her, that might be worse.”

 

“Oh, shut up.” The Inquisitor rolled his eyes even though he was smiling. He did have a ridiculous attracting to Josephine, but he couldn't say anything about it. No doubt she was uninterested, and this was neither the time nor the place to be developing attractions to anyone, let alone the diplomat. “Did you need something, or are you just up here to bother me?”

 

“Yeah.” He said, leaning against Cantis' wardrobe. “You see, all these heroic sacrifices have reminded me of someone. If you're feeling better, there's someone I know who should know more than anyone else about Corypheus. She's supposed to be coming here tonight, and I'd really like you to meet her.”

 

“Sure.” Cantis nodded and sat all the way up. “Anyone who can help is welcome up here, and if you trust them then so do I.”

 

Varric smiled. “Great. Meet me after dinner at the gates, she should be here in the evening.”

 

“Who is it anyway?”

 

“I invited two people actually, and you should have heard of them. Adrianne and Merrill Hawke.”

 

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**Later that Night**

“Open the gates! We have visitors!”

 

The two of them turned their heads, and saw the gates opening. They had just barely gotten down here from the nightly Skyhold dinner when their guests arrived.

 

“Right on time.” Varric chuckled. “Hawke always was punctual.”

 

In strode two women. One had shoulder-length hair that was pulled back in a professional style, wearing armour made of black steel and a hand-and-a-half sword sheathed at her hip. The other was a petite elf woman with Dalish tattoos and braided hair, wearing chestnut coloured plate armour with dull chainmail underneath, a dark green scarf around her neck.

 

“Inquisitor,” Varric's voice was light. “Meet Hawke. The Champion of Kirkwall.”

 

She inclined her head a little. “Though I don't use that title much anymore.”

 

The elven woman ran over and threw her arms around Varric, a wild, delighted smile on her face. “It is _so_ good to see you again, lethallin!” She gushed, hugging him tightly.

 

“It's good to see you too, Daisy.” He chuckled.

 

Cantis offered a hand out to Hawke, who shook it firmly. “My name is Cantis. Cantis Trevelyan.” He smiled. He knew Hawke from stories and Varric's  _The Tale of the Champion_ but had never met the woman himself.

 

“I thought you might have some friendly advice about Corypheus.” Varric said when the elven woman, apparently Merrill, released him. “You and I did fight him, after all.”

 

Hawke looked around to the buildings and stone walls of Skyhold. “You have an impressive place here, Inquisitor. It reminds me of my Estate in Kirkwall.” She turned to him. “I heard about Haven. You have my sympathies.”

 

He nodded, a little morosely. “Thank you. I'm glad we have strong walls now: We're not losing anyone next time they come for us.” He leaned against the stone brick wall. “Varric says you know about Corypheus?”

 

She nodded. “We fought, and killed him, before. The Grey Wardens were holding him, and he somehow used his connection to the Blight to influence them.”

 

Varric steeped a little closer. “Corypheus got into their heads, messed with their minds, turned them against each other.”

 

“If the Wardens have vanished...” She trailed off, shaking her head.

 

Cantis rested hist head against the wall, and closed his eyes, trying to breathe deeply. He had hoped for  _good_ news. “So he has the Venatori, the Red Templars, and possibly the Wardens?” He sighed hard. “Wonderful.”

 

“I didn't come here just to give you bad news.” Hawke offered. “I've got a friend in the Wardens. He was investigating something unrelated for me.” Their eyes met. “His name if Loghain. The last time we met, he was worried about corruption among the Wardens.” She shook her head. “Since then... nothing.”

 

“Corypheus would certainly count as corruption.” Cantis opened his eyes, pushing himself away from the wall. “Did Loghain disappear too?”

 

Hawke shook her head. “No. He said he's be hiding in an old smuggler's den near Crestwood.”

 

Cantis nodded. “Then that, at least, is something.” He offered a hand out again, and she took it. “Thank you.”

 

Her face was grave. “Corypheus is my responsibility. I thought I'd killed him before, and this time I'm going to make sure of it.”

 

“So, what makes you think you killed Corypheus before?”

 

She shook her head. “I didn't just  _think_ I killed him. It's not like he fell out a window or something, I didn't just assume he was dead. When the fight was over, he was dead on the ground, a charred, cut up corpse. Maybe it was his tie to the Blight that brought him back, or some magic, but he was dead, I swear.”

 

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I'm sorry, it's just... damn it. Between what we saw at Haven, the thought that he might have the Wardens behind him, and if he can come back from the dead? I'm not sure we can stop something like that.”

 

Merrill smiled, and offered a hand out to him as well. “It will be alright.” Her voice was reassuring. “We'll stop him, and save the  Wardens .”

 

He cocked his head. “How do you know about Corypheus?”

 

She threw an arm around Hawke. “Hawke's my wife. When the Wardens sent assassins after her, I had to go with her to stop them.”

 

“Pleased to meet you. Both of you.” He looked over at Hawke. “I'd heard you began travelling alone after Kirkwall?”

 

She shook her head. “No, but I'm glad you heard that. You see, I'd heard the Divine might send an Exalted March on Kirkwall, so I left hoping that they might have to come after me, and that might save the innocent people in the city. And if they heard that Merrill and everyone else had left too, then they would have to split their forces even further.” She wrapped an arm around the Dalish girl. “Up until recently, we were also travelling with my brother, Carver. But he was a Warden too, so I sent him off to the Anderfels so he wouldn't be affected by the Calling.” She gave a snorted laugh. “I expect he's off killing Darkspawn, annoying locals, and general making himself known.”

 

He nodded, understanding. “Well, I'm glad that you're with us.” He said, forcing a smile. “I'm sorry, I must sound like I'm angry at you, it's just that this is shaping up to be one hell of a fight.”

 

Hawke shook her head. “Don't worry about it, I understand. We've all lost good people in the last few years.” She shook her head. “The stupid fight between the mages and the Templars cost me my Mother.”

 

“I'm sorry.” He offered. “I recently lost my Father to the Templar insurgents.”

 

She gave a small nod. “And I'm sorry for you as well. A Blood Mage was the one who took my mom.”

 

Merrill hugged Hawke. “Ma Vhenan.” She murmured, kissing Hawke's neck and intentionally breaking the heavy silence. “I'm tired, would you take me to our room?”

 

Hawke smiled and gave her elf a kiss on the nose. “Alright, darling.” She turned to Varric. “You have a room for us?”

 

He nodded. “Yeah, I had Josephine set aside a room for you.”

 

Hawke shook Cantis' hand once more, and threw an arm around him in a half-hug. “Don't dwell too much on Haven, or on Corypheus. We'll stop them.” She advised. “We'll head out to Crestwood tomorrow, and we'll stop him. I promise.”

 

“Thank you. I feel better with you on our side, Champion.”

 

She took Merrill's hand, and began to walk with Varric before stopping and turning. “Oh yes,” She smiled. “And Varric has asked me to, and I quote, _'Tell Cantis to hook up with Ruffles'_ , whatever that means.”

 

He rolled his eyes. “Varric, stop intervening in my love life.”

 

“Oh, come on!” Varric smiled. “As I writer, I can tell that you two would be cute together.”

 

Hawke chuckled. “You should just be grateful that Isabela isn't here. Otherwise, you two would already be sleeping with each other in eight different books.” She gave a loud laugh. “And in half of them you'd be a woman.”

 

He shook his head. “It's nice to meet you too, Hawke.”  She threw her head back and laughed. “We'll leave first thing tomorrow morning.

 

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**Two Weeks Later**

Mara sat on a cliff overlooking Adamant Fortress, with a handkerchief to her eyes, sobbing quietly.

 

She had a cure for the Calling, a way to remove the part of her that made her a Grey Warden, but it might kill her, the same as the Joining.

 

In her mind were thought of Leliana, and of the future the two of them might hold. If she survived, they would have the rest of their lives to spend together. She knew that Leliana was in pain after the death of the Divine: She knew her wife far too well to think otherwise. Justinia's death would have shaken her to the core, and that was a twist of the knife in her heart to not be with her lover at such a painful time, to help her cope with such loss.

 

And if this worked, she would be able to help her wife. The Orlesian Bard would be down at Adamant fortress right now. The Inquisition was planning on attacking the fortress to stop the rogue Wardens who had attacked the Divine at the conclave, something Mara had figured out shortly after the Breach explosion.

 

According to Avernus, she had about a half chance at life once she drank the potion that would cure her Calling. If she survived, she would be a normal person once again. If.

 

What did she have to lose? The Calling was already killing her, and if she survived she could be with Leliana for the rest of her life, she could raise a family, adopt some orphan children.

 

She uncorked the potion, and drank it down in a single swallow, and collapsed onto the ground, convulsing in pain, feeling the blood rushing through her entire body, behind her eyes and ears especially, her eyes and vision burning white and hot.

 

She rolled onto her back, trying desperately to scream out, but the blood in her throat stopped it dead, her voice a strangled gasp.

 

As the world blurred, and faded into darkness, she gave one final whisper to the blackened stormy skies above.

 

“ _Leliana.”_


	7. *Update*

So, I love the ideas that I had for this story, but under it's current format I don't think I'll ever be happy with it. So instead, I've decided to start over and do more with my better writing skills, and do more of what I wanted this story to be like. I think the new one will be much, much better, so I encourage you to at least check it out. Much love guys.

 

Links to the new version:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11612618/1/

http://archiveofourown.org/works/5201978/chapters/11988941


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